By Her
by her m o c k i n g j a y
Summary: She's my best friend, certainly not the average girl. Maho/Koyuki


By Her

**Standard disclaimers apply. **

**Began**: 21 February 2009, 3:07

**Ended**: 06 August 2010, 12:45

**Author's note**: This is the first time that I've ever written in present tense. I always write past tense. So, if this isn't to your liking, please don't think I always write this way. It's different from my others. I'm in an experimenting phase. Also, I don't have a beta so I apologize if I slip to past tense. I'll read and re-read and re-re-read it to try and catch any errors but we all make mistakes.

* * *

_I was staring at your shoulder, shivering_

_In such a coldest summer breeze_

_Meanwhile, I wonder why we're here._

_Look for the line between love and friends_

_We'll be twisting ourselves again.

* * *

_

I don't remember the ride here, to the fishing hole, to Ryusuke's shack—to the place where a new chapter of my life began.

To the place where another is about to start.

Maho is in front of me and I know that she is smiling. She is impossible and adorable, and something that I can't believe happened to me. She is beautiful.

"You're beautiful," I tell her.

She laughs at me, like that's anything new.

"It's dark," she says. "You can't see me."

But for once I'm confident—in my assessment of her, in myself, and in this moment. Reaching a hand out, I stroke her hair. My head tilts and I feel my face soften as my eyes strain to see her.

"You are beautiful." Two fingers capture a thin lock of her dark hair, following it down to the tip and curling it up before setting the tapered end free. There is no background noise, no sound to hide the way her breathing hitches slightly when my fingertips trail lightly down her neck. I applaud myself mentally. Maho is my only experience for things like this and so far, we've only kissed. Five years of semi-chaste kisses and light touching has left behind some tension.

She confided in me once that, when she had been drunk, Yoshito had taken her virginity. It had been when she was 14 and in America and she hadn't done it since. Maho never told Ryusuke, but he's not stupid.

So lost in thought, I hadn't noticed Maho stepping closer until she was pressed against me, all softness and curves to my steadily developing muscles. I restrain a gasp at having her so close to me. She's always been so overwhelming. Her wild, American attitude, that juxtaposition of spice and sugar that is her scent, the way her voice echoes straight down to my marrow and burns me deliciously whether she is talking normally, yelling, or singing.

I feel her questioning eyes on my face and her hands on my waist, restless fingers sliding the rough material of my coveralls and shirt against my skin. My own hands come up to cup her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks.

"Maho…" I whisper her name reverently, hoping she understands how she has changed my life.

But then she laughs, ruining what I thought had been a moment.

"Stop being so corny!" Her hands are resting on my forearms now, fingers gripping tightly, and I know she ruined it purposefully. Maho doesn't like being vulnerable in front of other people.

"I love you," I say and kiss her. She kisses me back and the world and all its woes are swept away on a rapid current. It's a chaste kiss. Lips on lips, moving here and there, gently forceful. My hands trace down her back, feeling the cool, damp spot the string of her wet bikini left behind on the shirt.

"Oh," I pull back. "Earlier, on the train. You said you wanted to take a shower. Did you still…?"

Maho interrupts me, placing a finger on my lips.

"We'll take one," she says in a voice I've never heard her use before. It's throaty, and sensual and it sends shivers down my spine. "After we're done." Her hand curves around the back of my neck, tickling the hairs there before pressing her body even tighter against mine.

We're kissing again and one hand is around her waist, stroking the skin where her tee-shirt has ridden up, the other wrapped tightly across her shoulders. I've learned some tricks from her, so I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling lightly on it and reveling in the fisting of her hand in my hair.

Maho opens her mouth to sigh and I bury my hands in her hair, tilting her head back and deepening the kiss.

And then the atmosphere changes, is charged, and molten heat flows through our veins. I'm gasping quietly, stumbling over my feet, and Maho's feet, and the shit on Ryusuke's floor and then finally Maho stops moving because we've crashed into a wall and she's squirming deliciously against me and keening in the back of her throat in such a way that has the area between my thighs on fire. She's got the straps of my coveralls bunched in her fists and I think I'm pulling her hair pretty hard but she isn't complaining so I don't stop. We just keep kissing, kissing, kissing, and the heat is turning into a fire and then it's dawning on me that our clothes aren't even off yet and we are still only just kissing so how the hell can I feel so hot? Then I feel her fingers unsnapping the buttons on my straps and I'm sort of getting dizzy with how fast this is suddenly happening but god, I want it to happen and then she's pushing the coveralls down and I'm only wearing a white tee-shirt and plaid boxers that are tenting, which is embarrassing, but she chuckles and it sounds like a dark chuckle.

"Koyuki," she says, and there's a slight moan behind my name and I know she's pleased with what she's done to me.

Maho grabs my hands and places them at the hem of her shirt.

I'm anxious now, and the confidence I felt earlier is evaporating, leaving me trembling, breathless, with my heart beating loudly in my ears.

She raises her arms above her head, waiting.

I swallow, spreading my hands out flat on her waist. It's the first time I realize just how small her waist is—my fingers and thumbs can almost reach their partners around her hips. My hands slide up—and fuck, her skin is so smooth I swear its melting under my fingers—feeling the slight protrusion of her ribs beneath her skin and then her shirt is off, her hair is mussed and she's only wearing her black bikini top and her jeans.

Following her arms down to her shoulders, I trace the line of the bikini with a fingertip. My fingers ghost over her collarbone and delve into the valley between her breasts. Her breath hitches again as I trace the moist string around her back and untie the loose knot.

My breathing deepens as the strings part and the cloth triangles around her breasts loosen. Gently, my hands grasp her; rubbing calloused fingertips over erect nipples and feeling the shudders that run through her body at my touch.

So caught up in my exploration of her, I didn't realize she had started her own until small hands pushed the boxers down my thighs. Cool fingers on my hip bones made me freeze in place—I've never been touched _there_ by anyone other than myself.

My head crashes into her neck as she encircles me loosely. Maho's lips press lightly onto the spot behind my ear as she whispers, " Like that, huh?" I can only nod helplessly in response, my body aflame, hands forgotten but somehow still gripping her waist tightly.

Noises are coming from my lips, crooning groans I've never heard myself make. But then a surging sensation is spreading throughout my body and it's hard to breathe, to think, but I manage to gasp out her name before I go limp, sweaty brow pressing tightly against her collar bone.

Maho wraps her arms around me, stroking my hair as I try to get my eyes to focus.

"Let's lay down," I hear her say and her hands are tugging me gently to the floor.

"Okay," I say before falling into her.

* * *

end.

Let me just beg for forgiveness right now to those of you waiting on the second chapter of Cinder. I'm working on it, I promise. Being a mom takes up most of my time nowadays.


End file.
